March To The Sea

'This is actually beginning to look halfway decent,' Pahner said.

'I'm glad to hear it,' Rus From said. The Diaspran who'd become the chief field engineer of the K'Vaernian army stretched wearily. 'We managed to get almost all of the exposed stores aboard the boats and sent them off downriver,' he reported. 'There's still a lot to go, but it's all on the south side of the river now, behind the surprise.'

'Good,' Bogess said. 'Now if we can just get the army back together here before Camsan turns up—and assuming, of course, that Bistem gets back here intact—things will definitely be looking up. And it looks like Roger has smashed the Boman to the south quite handily.'

'Yep,' Pahner agreed. 'Gotta love competent subordinates. Of course, that begs the question of who's the subordinate in this case. Speaking of which.' He keyed his communicator. 'Prince Roger, Captain Pahner.'

* * *

Roger groaned as the attention signal pinged.

'Roger,' he said. 'Take that however you prefer.'

'I hate to break this to you, Your Highness, but I need you to bring your butt back to Sindi. I imagine we'll be entertaining the main host here sometime tomorrow morning, and I'd like you to be present for the party.'

'Gotcha, Captain,' the prince said with another groan, and surveyed the troopers lying all around the reclaimed original trench line in exhausted heaps. No doubt it was all dreadfully untidy, and not at all the way it was supposed to be according to The Book, but at least all the bodies were out of the trench, and all the wounded had been bandaged.

'We'll head out in a few minutes,' Roger went on. 'But be aware that we had to send all of our civan and turom back already, so we're on foot. That's going to slow us down.'

'Understood,' Pahner said. 'I'll send some troops out to meet you with your mounts. Move out, Your Highness.'

'Roger, out.' The prince smiled as he got to his feet. 'Take that however you prefer,' he whispered, and then poked the sergeant who'd lain half-asleep beside him with a toe. 'Despreaux! What the heck are you doing lying around snoring when your prince is in danger?'

* * *

Krindi Fain wasn't lost, he simply didn't know where his battalion—or his regiment—had gotten to. No one else seemed to know either, but, since seeing their company commander stumbling around in the middle of a retreat looking for their parent unit would be a bad thing for morale, he'd parked the company with the supply packbeast guards and gone a-hunting.

He also wasn't asleep, simply sort of numb. Which was how he came to be walking with his eyes sort of closed when he slammed into the obstacle.

'What are you doing here, soldier?' Bistem Kar's aide-de-camp demanded as the acting lieutenant bounced off of him, and Fain's eyes went wide at the sight of all the brass standing about.

'Krindi Fain, acting lieutenant, Delta Company, Rifle Battalion, Marton Regiment!' he said, snapping a salute. 'I'm looking for the Battalion, Sir!'

'Fain?' Kar himself rumbled. 'Weren't you an instructor sergeant not too long ago?'

'It's a long story, General,' the braced acting lieutenant said. 'I think I'll let Major Ni and Sergeant Julian explain it, if I may, General!'

'Delta Company?' one of the other officers said. 'I thought that was Lieutenant Fonal. I was surprised he got picked to command those skirmishers on the southwest flank, but that was you, wasn't it?'

'Yes, Sir,' Fain said. 'We're just trying to find our way home now, Sir.'

General Kar grunted in laughter.

'That's the best description of this madhouse I've heard yet,' he said, and his command staff joined his laughter. Fain was pretty sure that his participation in their humor wouldn't be appreciated, but he was too tired to really care, and he raised all four hands, palms upward in a purely human gesture.

'I'm just trying to find our unit, Sir,' he said tiredly. All these clean staff officers, who'd undoubtedly had to suffer through a hot breakfast and forego the pleasure of being covered in smoke stains and blood, were making his head ache.

'Not anymore,' Kar said. 'Go back, get your people, and bring them up here, instead. I'll be moving around, but I'm sure you can find the headquarters. I'm sorry there's no sleep for any of us, but make sure they get a bite to eat . . . and then replace the command group security company. Colonel Ni is just going to have to figure out how to spare you, because I'd rather have combat-proven veterans watching my backside!'

'Thank you, Sir,' the former NCO said.

'No,' the general said firmly. 'Thank you. When we hit the Boman, they didn't know which way to turn, and that was due in large part to you. So thank your company for me. When we get back to Sindi, I'll do it personally.'

'Yes, Sir,' the acting lieutenant said. 'I better go get the Company.'

* * *

It took hours to retreat through the trees. The Boman seemed endless as the long Mardukan day wore on; for every one they killed, two more seemed to spring up out of the earth. The cavalry was essentially useless, since not only were its civan all but exhausted, but it lacked the clear space to work up to a charge even if they hadn't been. The few mounted troopers with rifles had been sent to fill gaps in the line, but Rastar and Honal kept one troop in the saddle, ready to plug any sudden holes.

The pikes weren't much more use than cavalry in the close confinement of the jungle, but the assegai- wielding spearmen proved their value again and again during the chaos and confusion of the withdrawal. The Boman probed around the flanks, and even turned them a few times, only to be driven back and pounded into the ground. It seemed, as the choking pall of gun smoke rose like thick fog through the canopy, as if the withdrawal would never end. The nightmare struggle, crash of rifles, scream of bullets, and shriek of the wounded and dying were all part of some eternal, unending purgatory from which there could be no escape, and all anyone knew of it was the tiny part that he himself endured.

But, in the end, the withdrawing regiments finally reached the edge of the trees, and the whole, dreadful engagement could be seen.

* * *

Pahner saw it from the walls of Sindi, and shook his head as the units began to emerge. Bistem Kar had pulled out most of his dead, and all of his wounded, and he'd taken a fraction of the casualties he should have. Of course, he'd had an enormous advantage in terms of his troops' weapons, but Pahner suspected that the K'Vaernian general would have succeeded in a battle against an equally armed force, as well. There was a name that hovered on the edge of his consciousness, something about a wall. That was what Kar reminded him of, a stone wall nothing could break, even as he moved his units like dancers in a thunderous ballet of battle.

The pike battalions came first as the K'Vaernian forces began to clear the edge of the jungle. It was clear to Pahner that Kar had been forced by the combat environment to reorganize his forces on the fly, and the rifles continued to fire further into the jungle as the pike units shook out into line and dressed ranks. From the looks of things, they hadn't been heavily engaged in the previous fighting, and it was likely that the Boman had not yet discovered just how hard a target an unshaken wall of pikes was.

As the pikes settled into place, other units began to emerge from the jungle. Rastar's cavalry came first, much of it dismounted by now. The wounded and the dead came next, covered by walking wounded and spearmen. The riflemen came last of all, falling back with an iron discipline Pahner could feel all the way from the walls. It was a discipline he and his Marines had trained into them, but he knew only too well how that discipline could have vanished if the troops had feared for one moment that their commander was irresolute. Obviously, they had no such fear where Bistem Kar was concerned.

The trickiest moment came when the pike blocks had to open ranks to let the riflemen pass through, but Kar managed the maneuver so adroitly that the Boman never even seemed to recognize the moment of opportunity.

By the time the Boman realized what was happening, the retreating army had reformed itself into a huge, hollow square of pikes. In effect, there were no flanks for the barbarians to attack, any longer, and the entire